


Black Onyx & Gold

by scandalsavage



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Doctor Jason, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Jason wasn't found by Bruce, M/M, Marriage, Married Couple, Professor Jason, Step Dad Jason, Stephanie Brown is in Politics, Wedding Rings, everyone else is still vigilante-ing, minimal smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 16:16:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: “I like the ring too,” he says into the lavender silk of Bruce’s shirt.Bruce hugs him back, kisses the top of his head. Doesn’t bother asking how Jason knows. The boy lives in his head, he’s known that for a while now.“You keep staring at it,” Jason answers the unasked question as he pulls back and stands.“Hm. It looks good on you,” Bruce hums, pointedly giving Jason, standing before him without a stitch of clothing or shame in just his wedding band, a hungry once over.[[Jason never steals the tires on the Batmobile, Bruce never makes him Robin. He grows up to be a sexy professor.]]





	Black Onyx & Gold

**Author's Note:**

> From an ask on [my Tumblr](https://scandalsavagefanfic.tumblr.com/) (I'm still not really taking requests... but... you know...)
> 
>  
> 
> _So I love angsty brujay as much as anyone but can we get doting!husband Bruce and hot trophy husband/professor Jason who is alarmingly good friends with a lot of the society SOs and uses the info for cases and everyone else is like wth and Bruce is just 😍_

Bruce never tires of the view when he exits his closet (which is really more of a dressing room) in the mornings. The body sprawled out in his bed is smooth and tan, the sunlight coming through the giant windows highlights the curves of hard muscle running down the boy’s back, strong arms tucked under the pillow. There’s a small wet spot from where he’s drooled in his sleep.

 

He approaches the bed, smiling softly, fastening his cuff-links. The only thing that could make the scene better is if the bit of silvery sheet draped over the flawless swell of Jason’s backside slips lower. Or off completely.

 

Unable to resist, Bruce gently brushes the lock of white hair, a wonderfully unique birthmark, off the much younger man’s peaceful face.

 

Jason hums in his sleep, following the light touch before groggily blinking his eyes open.

 

“ _Mmmm…_ time ‘sit?” He sighs contentedly, leaning into Bruce’s hand as it cups his cheek.

 

“Nearly six.”

 

Jason groans and tries to bury his face in the pillow.

 

“I don’t even have a class today,” he whines, voice muffled by fabric and Eider down, “You’re a very mean, evil man, waking me up so early.”

 

Bruce gives a small huff of laughter before lightly dragging his fingertips across Jason’s shoulders to slowly travel along his spine.

 

“I have a board meeting at eight,” Bruce rumbles as his fingers approach their target, “There’s a couple of minor matters to take care of before it starts but I have few minutes if you want to… have breakfast.”

 

Jason giggles as Bruce’s fingers nudge the sheet just enough for the satiny material to slink off him like liquid.

 

“Breakfast, huh?” He says, turning over, sleepy sea green eyes flickering in amusement, unconvinced.

 

Bruce just smiles at him innocently, eyes snapping to the flash of black onyx and gold on the younger man’s hand.

 

It’s still so new. The sight of it continues to make his heart leap.

 

He reaches out, feels Jason smiling happily, watching as Bruce takes his hand, lifts it to his own lips and kisses the wedding band.

 

Jason takes the opportunity to slip his hand around Bruce’s head, tangling his fingers in Bruce’s still (mostly) black hair, and pulls him down.

 

The younger man’s lips are soft and warm and even though Jason hasn’t brushed his teeth yet, Bruce can’t get enough of the taste of him, a lingering flavor of the bourbon they drank last night clings to his tongue and Bruce sucks on it playfully, chasing the flavor of alcohol and Jason.

 

He moves from his husband’s lips to his jaw, down his throat, across his chest. He pauses to worry at a pink nipple with his teeth, coaxing out those pretty little choked off gasps he likes so much, before licking the lines of the valleys between Jason’s abs and finally making his way to his destination.

 

It doesn’t take long, once he gets Jason’s length in his mouth. Jason is always so sensitive but especially in the morning, when he’s still soft and sleepy, all breathless moans, arching into the mattress, one hand twisted in the sheets the other gripping Bruce’s hair tight.

 

The way the younger man comes undone, so open and trusting, so expressive… Bruce would do anything for him, anything to keep him.

 

He knows that’s what the kids are worried about. But he trusts Jason, more than he’s trusted anyone from outside the family in a very long time.

 

He knows that troubles the kids too. But they don’t know him very well yet. Bruce is positive they’ll like him once they do.

 

Jason finishes with a muffled cry around the fist he’s moved from the sheets to his mouth, the gold of his ring flashing in the morning light. He’s always been vocal about his enjoyment, but ever since he officially moved in, he’s been trying to be considerate of that fact that Damian and Tim still live down the hall. Even though Bruce has told him the walls and doors are thick enough that they won’t hear.

 

Swallowing, Bruce lets Jason slip from his mouth, reaches up and gently takes Jason’s hand from where he’s biting down on it, rubbing his thumb over the indentations of his teeth. Then he presses his lips to his lover’s for a sweet, prolonged kiss before standing.

 

His intention is to check his slacks in the mirror, see if he’s wrinkled them too noticeably and change if he must.

 

But his wrist is snagged in a strong, soft hand, and in one fluid, graceful movement, Jason has pulled him back to sit on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of him.

 

“I don’t have time,” he objects weakly. A brilliant grin flashes up at him, clever fingers deftly undoing the button, the zipper.

 

“Guess you’re going to be late then.”

 

The world dissolves around him, everything narrowing to the wet, velvet heat of Jason’s divinely filthy mouth. The things this kid does with his tongue, his teeth, his lips. Sometimes Bruce wonders if it’s an addiction.

 

When Jason’s intensity and determination is focused entirely on him, Bruce never lasts.

 

But the younger man pulls off him with a wet pop when Bruce is moments away from breaking.

 

“Look at me,” Jason rasps and that’s when Bruce realizes he has his eyes squeezed shut.

 

He fixes his gaze on Jason’s face. The pupils in those green eyes are blown wide under heavy lids, his cheeks flushed pink, lips red from being stretched around Bruce’s remarkably long, thick cock.

 

Jason gives him a mischievous little smirk, makes a show out of wrapping his left hand around Bruce’s member. Black and gold, metal and stone, cool but quickly warming as it slides up and down the heated, red flesh while Jason leans forward and ducks his head, gently sucking Bruce’s balls into his mouth, simultaneously giving Bruce a lovely view of the curve of his ass.

 

Unlike Jason, Bruce isn’t usually vocal. But he can’t contain the little shout that is punched out of him. He watches his seed shoot down the line of Jason’s spine, watches as gravity drags it lower and lower, as it disappears between the rounded swells of his cheeks.

 

Straightening up, Jason licks the tip of his cock, cleaning it of the last drops of release. Then gives him a smug smirk before slipping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his face against Bruce’s chest.

 

“I like the ring too,” he says into the lavender silk of Bruce’s shirt.

 

Bruce hugs him back, kisses the top of his head. Doesn’t bother asking how Jason knows. The boy lives in his head, he’s known that for a while now.

 

“You keep staring at it,” Jason answers the unasked question as he pulls back and stands.

 

“Hm. It looks good on you,” Bruce hums, pointedly giving Jason, standing before him without a stitch of clothing or shame in just his wedding band, a hungry once over.

 

The smile that blooms across Jason’s face is radiant and he looks like he’s ready to go another round.

 

Despite that, he nods at Bruce’s rumpled state. “You’re gonna want to change.”

 

Jason has the shower running when Bruce emerges in a new suit.

 

“I’m heading out,” he calls, popping his head into the lavish marble room.

 

Jason pauses before stepping into the steam and tilts his head.

 

“You gonna brush your teeth?” He asks.

 

“Already did.”

 

Jason gives him an exasperated but amused look. “I mean after you just—"

 

Bruce leans in, cutting him off with another deep probing kiss, then pulls away and says, “Nope.”

 

His husband snorts and rolls his eyes.

 

“Don’t forget about the fundraiser tonight,” Bruce says on his way out, moving quickly enough to miss the bulk of the grumbling.

 

* * *

 

 

Bruce knows Jason isn’t the most social of men. The galas and fundraisers and charity events are a part of Bruce Wayne’s world and they can be stressful or tiring for a more reserved, private person. But despite Jason’s grousing and preference for quiet evenings in front of a fire instead of a band, with a book, instead of a crowd, he always manages to charm and enchant the scions of East coast aristocracy.

 

He watches his husband from across the room, barely paying attention to the conversation happening in the group around him. Jason is laughing easily with a handful of young women, much closer to his age than Bruce. The sudden reminder that he’s in some interesting company has him wondering if the much older husbands of those much younger women love their wives as much as he loves Jason. Whether they love them for more than their pretty appearances.

 

Jason is a vision. His burgundy three-piece is, unlike all the silk and cashmere in the room, tweed. Bruce made sure Jason’s wardrobe was beyond reproach, that everything was of a quality that would blend with the wealthy. His brown suede Oxfords are the softest Italian leather, his floral tie is silk, his white button-down cost way too much for even the finest cotton. Even though he’d blend better with the extravagance in one of his other suits, one in black or grey or blue, Jason is more comfortable when he gets to be himself, even in a small way, like wearing tweed. Even at the risk of snide comments. Which is probably why Jason has never replaced his old horned-rimmed glasses with something more fashionable.

 

Sharp green eyes catch him staring and they smile at each other.

 

Bruce has an overwhelming urge to sneak his husband away to one of the many dark nooks around the manor’s grounds.

 

By the time he refocuses on his immediate vicinity, the group he was speaking to has dispersed, apparently losing interest in his… lack of interest.

 

He grabs a drink from a passing tray and starts trying to find his kids. Cassandra is where she always is at these things, glued to Barbara Gordon’s side as the Police Commissioner’s daughter interacts easily with high society. Dick and Tim are speaking to a group of 20-30 somethings about business. Or rather Tim is talking and Dick keeps glancing around like he’s looking for a reason to excuse himself. And Damian is…

 

“Well, at least he fits in with the other trophy wives.”

 

Bruce frowns, glancing down at Damian and following his gaze to where Jason giggles with a beautiful, young blond woman.

 

“Come with me,” he mutters, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder to guide him out to the veranda.

 

Damian heaves a long-suffering sigh. But if he wanted to avoid _another_ lecture, he should have avoided _another_ tasteless joke at Jason’s expense.

 

“I understand that my relationship with Jason is difficult for you—“

 

Damian snorts and looks out into the darkness of the grounds.

 

“—And that you and your siblings have your reservations,” he continues, deciding to ignore the little outburst. “But none of you have really even spoken to him. You haven’t made any attempt to get to know him. You’re making a lot of judgments based on very little information.”

 

“I think I have plenty of information, father. You are very wealthy, Jason is very attractive. The most obvious motivations are usually the ones at play.”

 

Bruce narrows his eyes. “Damian. Jason is a doctor and a professor of abnormal psychology. He’s an authority in his field. His research and input have greatly increased the efficiency and effectiveness of Arkham, helped capture and incarcerate super-criminals even before he started helping with… our night jobs.”

 

“Yes. Teachers and doctors who do most of their work pro bono make enough money for it to be absurd for us to think it a factor in his… interest in you. And I am certain that you, a man surrounded by some of the greatest minds in the world at any given moment, are more interested in a man’s brilliance specializing in a soft science rather than the man’s much more exceptional looks.”

 

“Damian.”

 

“Father.”

 

They stand in a silent stalemate for a long moment.

 

“You’ve made a number of unfair assumptions. First of all, even if Jason wasn’t incredibly intelligent, he would still be deserving of respect. He is kind and generous both of which are wildly underrated traits. Of course I’m physically attracted to him, attraction plays a role in all relationships. But I married him because he’s selfless and compassionate. He loves this city as much as I do. And he loves me as much as I love him.

 

“Second, he married me because even now, despite his accomplishments, he is constantly patronized and dismissed due to his… _humble origins_. He faces more and more of it the higher he climbs, the more esteem he earns, the more exclusive his circle of peers and colleagues becomes. I’ve always treated him with dignity, come to his defense when necessary.

 

“And finally, as if to help drive my point home, the young woman he was speaking to in there is not a ‘trophy wife’, as you so tactlessly suggested. And your instinct to label her as such speaks volumes to your own biases. Stephanie Brown is one of the youngest representatives to serve in the state legislature. She grew up in the East End, just like Jason. They’ve done quite a bit of work together to help Gotham’s less privileged neighborhoods.”

 

Damian shifts uncomfortably, eyes downcast. He scuffs the sole of his shoe against the flooring.

 

Bruce puts his hand on his son’s shoulder again and squeezes.

 

“Jason is the one who asked for a prenuptial agreement. He’s asked that I don’t touch my will until you are all comfortable with him. He tries to interact with you and, while none of you are openly rude… you haven’t exactly made him feel welcome.

 

“All I’m asking is that you give him a chance. Speak to him and see where it goes.”  


He turns to go back inside.

 

“Sorry, father. It’s… difficult… to know how to act around him. He’s not much older than us but… he’s you’re husband and it is… complicated.”

 

“He’s not your parent. You’re all too old for for that and, more importantly, he doesn’t want to be. But he could be a friend.”

 

“Of course. I’ll… try. Promise.”

 

Bruce puts his arm out and wraps it around Damian’s shoulders when the teen approaches.

 

“Thank you, son,” he says as they rejoin the party, “Maybe you can say something to your brothers too.”

 

Damian nods and heads off. Bruce loses him in the crowd, making his way to Tim.

 

“Hey, you,” a warm, rumbling voice purrs into his ear, immediately making him smile, “Where’d you disappear to?”

 

Jason’s arm snakes round his waist and Bruce returns the hold.

 

“You promised you’d never leave me alone at one of these things,” Jason continues, whispering, before Bruce can answer.

 

“Hm. Apologies, my love. I was… speaking to Damian.”

 

“Ah,” Jason grunts, then smirks up at him, “Did he call me a ‘harlot’ again?”

 

Bruce snorts at that eventful memory. “A ‘trophy wife’.”

 

Jason’s laugh rings like sweet music and Bruce can’t help but smile as he watches him, completely smitten.

 

“Well, I think I may have gained some brownie points with Cass.”

 

“Cass has always been the best about our relationship. She respects Barbara and Babs respects you.”

 

“True. But now she doesn’t have to takes Red’s word for it,” he nods to where Cassandra is gazing wide-eyed and captivated by a cute blond woman speaking animatedly, hands flying as she communicates with gesture as much as words, “I thought she and Steph would hit it off.”

 

Bruce takes Jason’s hand, plays with the black and gold band, and just gazes at him for a long moment.

 

“You’re staring, old man.”

 

Turning to face him, Bruce pulls Jason into his arms and waits for sea green eyes.

 

“You are remarkable. Did you know that?” Bruce murmurs to him, forgetting that there are dozens of other people very likely watching them, “Absolutely singular.”

 

When Jason’s face flushes pink and he laughs it off, trying to pull away, Bruce just tightens his embrace.

 

He closes the distance and presses a chaste kiss to the younger man’s lips. Then he leans in further, lips brushing the shell of Jason’s ear as he whispers, “I’m going to skip patrol tonight. While the kids are working, I’m going to take you apart. Slowly. Make you scream like you used to. By the time I’m through with you, you won’t be able to get out of bed for days.”

 

Jason shudders. And then balks when Bruce releases him and walks away to mingle. He only just makes out Jason’s muttered “Asshole.”

 

Half an hour later, Bruce catches Dick and Damian standing with Jason, chatting. Jason looks a little surprised but obviously thrilled at the unexpected inclusion.

 

For the first time in a long while, Bruce is optimistic about the future. Or rather, his own future and how happy he’ll be in it.

 


End file.
